Part Four:
Chipped Hearts, Crushed Dreams, andCracked Bottles
October 31, 2020 Storybrooke, Maine (Halloween)
Belle's apartment and Rumple's house 1:15 AM
Belle had just put Bastian down for second time that night, and had gone downstairs to grab her laptop, when, out of the corner of her eyes she saw a blurry, fading version of herself playing with two identical little girls who looked to be about the same age as her son.
She could hear their giggles as they ran around the library as the flickering Belle tried to persuade them to go upstairs for bed.
"If you go up now without me asking again, I'll read you your favorite story."
The girls said at the same time, "We want papa!"
"Your papa is in Boston. You both know this."
The see-through Belle placed her hands her hips. "You two already talked to him on my computer and said goodnight."
The girls mimicked their mother's stance. "We want to go home."
"Home is being repainted."
"But why? We like our pink house!"
"Well, you'll like it just as much when it's blue with yellow shutters."
She pointed to the stairs. "Verity Alicia and Clara Renay Gold, go up the stairs now! Or else I will call your papa again, and he will not be pleased."
When that tactic didn't have the desired effect, Belle smiled, knowing exactly what would make them move. "You know that present your papa told you he'd be bringing you?
They nodded, as they looked at their mother in frozen suspense.
"Well, if I call him, he won't."
The girls ran up the stairs, right through the real Belle.
As soon as they vanished to the loft upstairs, Belle caught a glimpse of her other self-flickering out like a broken light.
Belle rubbed her eyes, and blinked several times, trying to get the image of herself and the two little girls who were obviously her daughters, daughters she possibly could have had with Rumple. Thinking she was hallucinating, she grabbed her laptop, and ran up the stairs.
She wanted nothing more than to skype Rumple and tell him all about what she'd seen, but knew they shouldn't have more contact than exchanging their son back and forth week after week.
Belle crawled into her empty, cold bed and cried herself to sleep, thinking of all the things that could have been and couldn't, simply because they believed a warning their son in the next room had given them before he was born.
Six hours later, Rumplestiltskin shot up from his cot in his shop covered in a cold sweat as he struggled to gasp for air.
Rumple grabbed the bottle of warm scotch on the floor, and downed a third of it, not caring he was down to the bottom of the barrel of his usually decent, extremely expensive stock of potent alcohol.
Slamming the empty glass down on the chipped concrete (caused by too many dropped potions) he stared at the picture of Belle and Bastian a foot away from where he slept, thinking no other thoughts in his mind except the too real fact: 'Not all haunted places are houses.'
He stumbled out of the uncomfortable cot, and poofed himself back to his empty house to shower, deciding if he wanted to get any work done today, he may as well shave, shower, and put on a decent suit. After the epic bender he had gone on over the past few days, he was extremely hungover, and probably still drunk from the night before.
This had been his ritual ever since he and Belle divorced: he had Bastian two weeks out of the month and the following two weeks he smothered himself in misery.
Yes, he couldn't be with his wife and son living a happy life; so, to add insult to injury and to pour salt in his gaping wound where his heart used to be, he hadn't had a decent night rest in four years. He was constantly being plagued by nightmares which not only felt real, but had the awful tendency of coming true.
Rumple didn't understand, the death and destruction their son had warned them about seemed to be coming true, even though he and Belle were separated by an entire town.
Since Bastian's birth nearly all the people who came from the Land of Untold Stories had met untimely, oftentimes grotesque ends. Most of the dwarves had been buried in the mines two years ago, and the people who had lived in Storybrooke through everything else, finally got the hell out of dodge; before they too, met untimely ends.
Turning the shower to the coldest setting, he swore to himself for the hundredth time 'This is the day I stop drinking.'
His laughter rang out, startling him out of his pity party, as if the sound came from someone else.
Rumple turned the shower onto warm, knowing if he went outside freezing cold already, he'd most likely be an icicle as soon as the bitter October Maine air hit his face.
Stepping out of the shower five minutes later, he wiped the mirror only to see a tall man dressed in a black cloak sporting dark eyes and an evil smile.
He turned around, only to see nothing.
Letting out a frightened breath, he shook his head, knowing he most likely was suffering from his usual alcohol related hallucination.
He dried off, took some vitamins and antacids, dressed and made his way to his shop only to be greeted by a shaking, teeth chattering Henry.
"Hello Henry. What brings you to my door so early?"
Henry gave him a disappointed, adamantly disgusted look. "Really Gramps! You can't buy mouthwash? What'd you do, drink a whole liquor store? I know you're the Dark One, but still…"
Rumple unlocked his shop, allowing Henry to go first. Not wanting anyone to interrupt them, he locked the door with a powerful shield; even Regina wouldn't be able to open the door.
"I assume you came here to do more than berate me?"
"Yeah. I came to tell you I can help you get Belle, Bastian and my dad back. My mom hasn't been the same since she married Hook and had Liam. It's like the life's been drained right out of her. It's not right, and I want to make her happy again, and I know for sure she would have been truly happy with my dad."
"Is that so? And how would you do that? Do you have a way to reverse time? You may have a bit of magic from your mother, but even the most magical, powerful beings in the land haven't been able to produce the spell to rewind time. Well, except for Zelena, but she's in Oz wreaking all kinds of havoc." Rumple spat out, the memory of his son dying and everything that came after still twisted his no longer black heart.
"I have the pen from the Author. I haven't used it, because when he first gave it to me I was afraid of what I could do to the people I love. Now, though, the way the whole town has gone to hell since we came back from the Underworld, well I'm positive what I'd write would be much less detrimental than half the town being dead or gone."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure it'll work. 'Sides I've been seeing things I know aren't there all month."
Henry leaned closer to his grandfather, "I haven't told anyone this, but I've been seeing a red tinged sky ever since we came back from the Underworld. I don't know what it means, but I do know I'm the only one who can see it, and it worries me."
Rumple's eyebrows shot up, and his eyes grew wide. "I've been seeing things that possibly be real too. I wonder if Belle has as well…"
He considered everything Henry told him, and, after mulling it over for a whole two minutes, he nodded his head. "Yes. I want a chance to have a life with my wife and my sons. You deserve to have your father back. And your mother does deserve to be happy. I have every confidence you will be able to write a reality better than the one we've had to endure the last four years."
Henry smiled, his grin reaching his eyes for the first time in years. "Good, I'm glad you agree." Henry took out a book of empty pages, the Author's pen, and an hourglass.
Rumple stared at the hourglass, as a memory he couldn't quite reach told him something was off with the scene in front of him.
"Henry, where did you find that hourglass? I don't sell them anymore."
"Oh, the last time I went to visit my dad's grave, it was just sitting there, with all the sand at the bottom of the glass. I thought it was cool, so I took it, thinking it may come in handy one day."
Rumple nodded, and waved his hand, letting Henry know it was fine to start writing.
Henry wrote for what seemed like hours, when in fact, only an hour went by.
"I'm done. Would you like to read it before I sign it?"
Rumple swallowed the lump in his throat, nodding his head.
Henry handed him the book, watching his grandfather's face light up with a happiness he hadn't seen since little Bastian was born.
"This is wonderful Henry. Thank you so much." Rumple walked around the counter, and hugged his grandson for five whole minutes.
"Grandpa, I have to sign it."
"Oh, right. Go ahead."
Henry signed his name at the bottom of the last page.
The moment he curled the last letter (S), everything went dark.